


Fighting For Honour

by can_i_slytherin



Series: Lock-down Writing Challenge [27]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: 5+1 Things, Bisexual Male Character, Established Relationship, Getting Together, Homophobia, Implied Sexual Content, Jedi in love, Love Confessions, M/M, Minor Violence, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:41:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23758555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/can_i_slytherin/pseuds/can_i_slytherin
Summary: Five times Anakin got into a fight, plus the one time that Obi-Wan did.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Series: Lock-down Writing Challenge [27]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1676824
Comments: 6
Kudos: 154





	Fighting For Honour

**Author's Note:**

> Day Twenty-Seven of my challenge and my generator gave me Obikin. 
> 
> This one is a little long, but I love 5+1 fics. 
> 
> Anyway, Enjoy! Comments and Kudos always welcome! 
> 
> Happy Reading!

**1: Ex-Slave: 11 Years Old**

The other boys in Anakin's 'saber training classes were usually pretty quiet. They stuck to themselves, avoiding Anakin as best they could, and only ever made fun by laughing at him. 

But, for whatever reason, they decided that day that they would use verbal insults against him. 

"I mean, why would Master Jinn ever take you on?" One of the boys, Garick, asked, stalking around Anakin in a tight circle. 

Anakin took a deep breath, trying to quell his growing anger and release it into the force- like Obi-Wan had shown him- but, his efforts were fruitless at the other kid's cruel words washed over him. 

"You're an insult to his memory. He should've left you on Tatooine." 

A flash of a memory from his time on Tatooine shot through his head and Anakin flinched away from it, trying to forget the brands burned into his skin. The biting cuts of the whip against his back. Watto's harsh words. But, it all came rushing back at a simple mention of his home planet and it left him with a burning hot rage deep in his stomach that he did his best to quell. 

"All you'll ever be is a good for nothing slave."

Something snapped within him and Anakin let out an inhumane growl, vibrating with the force of his rage. He threw his training lightsaber to the floor before launching himself at the black-haired boy, using his body weight to force them to the ground. He straddled Garick's hips and grasped the front of his tunic to keep him stable before he sent his fist careening into his nose. 

"Master Jinn chose me for a reason!" The blond spat, landing another punch and feeling a sick sense of satisfaction when a glob of blood sprayed from his nose, staining the white fabric of his tunic red. 

"To question that decision is an insult to his memory!" Anakin screamed, throwing another punch, tears streaming down his face, though he couldn't tell if they were from anger or embarrassment. 

Before he could do anymore damage, a pair of arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him away. He struggled against the grip, kicking out at the person behind him, and screamed himself hoarse, tears dripping down his cheeks. He was shaking, both with adrenaline and anger, and his chest heaved, lungs burning with every breath. 

"It's me, padawan." Obi-Wan whispered, his Coruscanti accent thick in his ear, "You must calm yourself." 

"He has no idea why Master Jinn chose me!" Anakin yelled, going limp in his master's arms, "He has no place saying what he did!"

"And you had no place attacking another student, yet here we are!" Obi-Wan replied, his annoyance and disappointment ringing loud and clear through their training bond. There was an undertone of pride that made Anakin freeze, but he hastily ignored it in favour of pouting. 

He cursed in Huttese and steadfastly avoided his master's gaze when the older man deposited him on a countertop. 

"He deserved it." Anakin spat, residual anger from his fight directed at Obi-Wan, though he didn't mean to. 

Obi-Wan sighed and stepped into Anakin's personal space, a wet washcloth and a set of bandages cradled in his hands. 

"I can imagine that he did." Obi-Wan replied, tugging a hand through his hair as he set about cleaning and bandaging Anakin's split knuckles. 

Anakin could feel his master's amusement and pride through their bond much clearer now that they were safely away in their quarters. He snapped his head up, narrowing his eyes in disbelief at the Jedi Knight, and grinned when Obi-Wan laughed. 

"I think you'd perhaps do better to keep the fighting for duelling matches, but either way I'm proud of you for defending yourself and Qui-Gon. I must have words with you about your behaviour because, whilst it was a provoked reaction, it is not the way of a proper Jedi. You must learn to control your emotions, Anakin, and release them to the force." Obi-Wan lectured, a soft, fond smile on his face. 

Anakin chuckled softly and ducked his head in shame, "I know, Master, I will do better next time." 

Obi-Wan gently tugged on the boy's Padawan braid and smiled, "I know you will." 

  
  


**2: Shmi: 13 Years Old**

Anakin was wandering through the corridors of the Temple after an afternoon in the Archives with Master Varik, fully intent on returning to his quarters to meditate with Obi-Wan, but was stopped by a member of Garik's group, Dralin.

"Where are you going, Skywalker?" The redhead muttered, stepping in front of Anakin to cut him off, "To your mother?" Dralin smirked maliciously, "Oh, wait. She's not here because even she didn't want you." 

Anakin breathed out sharply through his nose, closing his eyes and clenching his fists at his sides. He imagined a lake, serene and surrounded by beautiful trees that stretched up to the deep, blue sky. He imagined being behind the wheel of a podracer, wind whipping past his head as he travelled at breakneck speeds. 

But, just as he found peace within himself and released his emotions to the force, they came back at full strength, every molecule in his body vibrating with anger. 

"I bet she sleeps around, doesn't she? That's how she came to be a good slave." Dralin spat, eyes glinting maliciously, "I bet you do have a father, but she just doesn't know who because she's had so many people. Rather than the embarrassment of not knowing, she told you that you didn't have one. Anything is better than your son knowing that you're a slut." 

Anakin went blank, his brain short-circuiting, and the only emotion that he could feel was the white-hot rage that burnt through his veins, making his very blood simmer. 

He reached out with shaking hands and curled his fist around the front of Dralin's robes before pulling him forward at the same time that he tipped his head back, slamming his forehead into the redhead's nose. 

"Another word about my mother," Anakin spat, sounding deadly calm, despite his internal turmoil, "and I'll break your nose. If you tell anyone, I'll do the same." 

He shoved Dralin away, watching as he fell to the floor, sprawling on his back, clutching one hand to his bleeding nose. 

Anakin sighed heavily and stepped over Dralin, "Don't tip your head back, you'll drown yourself in your own blood. Tip your head forward and pinch the bridge of your nose. Go see a Healer too." 

Dralin fixed him with a confused look before he scrambled to his feet and darted down the corridor, quickly disappearing from sight. 

Anakin continued his journey and tried not to feel guilty that he’d gotten into another fight, knowing that Obi-Wan would be disappointed in him. He needed to learn to control himself better or he would never become a Master. 

  
  


**3: Bisexual: 18 Years Old**

Discovering his sexuality hadn’t been a huge revelation to Anakin. Some part of him, deep down, always knew that there was something different, something that set him apart from the other boys, not just in the Temple but on Tatooine too. 

Then he’d gone through puberty and he’d had that phase where he was  _ constantly  _ aroused. As crude as it was, when he watched HoloVids, he found that he didn’t focus on the woman, but on the man as well. He’d frozen, briefly, but simply shrugged his shoulders and continued. It wasn’t an issue, many people on Tatooine were in similar positions, very fluid in their sexualities, and so, it made no difference to Anakin that he was the same. 

He kept it close to his chest, no one, other than Obi-Wan and Padmé, needed to know. But, then, Garik and his group overheard a conversation that he was having with Padmé over his comm and found another reason to tease him. It started innocently at first, gentle probing about what his type was or whether he found any specific Jedi Masters attractive or whether he gave or took. 

However, like all of their bullying, it took a turn for the worst and their teasing turned into mean insults. 

“Hey, Pretty Boy!” Garik yelled, his voice carrying through the empty corridors. 

Anakin heard his friends’ sniggers, but he lowered his head, squared his shoulders and continued walking, knowing that if he stopped now, he’d be late to dinner with Obi-Wan. 

“Oi, Cock Sucker! We’re talking to you.” 

Anakin froze, fingers curling into fists at his sides, fingernails digging into the palms of his hands, and felt a flare of anger in his stomach, heating his intestines with rage-filled lava. He shook his head, gritting his jaw against the temptation to fight back, and continued his journey to Obi-Wan’s quarters, intent on making it to dinner without causing any drama. 

Garik seemed to have other plans. 

“Don’t walk away from me, you fa-” 

Before he could finish his sentence Anakin whirled around on his heel, eyes alight with fury, and stalked towards Garik and his friends, smiling wolfishly when the group took a few hasty steps backwards, leaving Garik exposed to Anakin’s temper. He pressed both hands into the black-haired Jedi’s shoulders and gave him a harsh shove, smiling when he stumbled over his robes, collapsing onto the floor in a tangle of fabric. 

Anakin followed him down and he shoved Garik flat against the floor when he tried to sit up, a knee pressed into his chest to keep him pinned there. 

“I may like sucking cock,” Anakin growled, fists clenched at his sides as his rage-heated blood rushed through his veins, “but I’ll still kick your ass. You  _ ever  _ use that word against me and I’ll break your kriffing fingers.” 

He rose to his feet, dusting himself off and taking a deep breath to stop himself from punching Garik before he took a step backwards, leaving the black-haired Jedi enough room to stand.

“Now would be a good time to run away.” Anakin spat through gritted teeth, nodding his head towards the end of the corridor that they had come from. 

He smiled when Garik scrambled to his feet, barely casting a look back as he hurried down the corridor and out of sight. 

Despite his initial happiness at defending himself, he knew that Obi-Wan would have a few choice words for him and he knew that he’d have to sit through another lecture on the ‘correct Jedi way of dealing with emotions and conflict’. 

The Correct Jedi Way be damned. Anakin was glad that he did it and he’d happily do it again, even if it meant that he’d have to endure Obi-Wan’s ‘I’m disappointed in you’ lecture. 

  
  


**4: Obi-Wan: 20 Years Old**

To say that Anakin didn’t have a hopeless crush on his master would be a lie. He hadn’t meant to, but he’d subconsciously allowed himself to catch feelings for Obi-Wan, beyond that of a typical Padawan-Master pairing. Though, nothing about their bond was typical, so what difference did a ridiculous crush make? 

He knew attachments were forbidden and that it was  _ against the Jedi code,  _ but he found that he didn’t care when it came to Obi-Wan. He didn’t care when his master cradled his cheeks to wipe away his tears after he’d had a breakdown about his mother. When he placed a hand at the small of his back to guide him through a door. When he tugged him closer in a large crowd, so as to not lose him. When he looked at him, like he was the brightest star in the galaxy or the most beautiful planet. When he held him close, covering him with his own body, after he’d had a nightmare. When he draped his robe over him if he shivered too much. 

The Code didn’t matter in those moments because he was Obi-Wan’s, with nothing more to be expected of him. 

It made Anakin fall harder each time, falling more and more in love with Obi-Wan with every innocent display of affection. 

So, when the teasing moved away from him and towards Obi-Wan, Anakin had no choice but to fight back. Not only to defend his master, but to defend his love- not that anyone knew about that. 

“How did you get such good grades, Skywalker?” Shyon questioned, sounding innocent enough, but Anakin could hear the malice in his voice. 

Anakin rolled his eyes and brushed his hair behind his ear, tugging his theoretical test close to his chest, “None of your kriffing business.” 

“I know.” Frevik countered, eyes shining with vicious amusement, “It has something to do with that master of his.” 

Anakin felt a flash of anger through his stomach, making his fingers tingle with its electrifying intensity, “You keep your mouth shut, Frevik!” 

“Touched on a nerve, have we, Pretty Boy?” Shyon retorted, stepping forward into Anakin’s space, “Worried that you won’t get your daily fill of Kenobi’s cock if we find out?” 

“I’m warning you.” Anakin growled, hands clenching into fists at his sides, staring at Shyon and Frevik with a dark, dangerous look in his eyes, shoulders rigid with anticipation as he practically begged them to start a fight. 

He’d been needing to work off some steam anyway. He was hoping that it would involve a HoloVid and his left hand, but a fight was good enough. 

“Or what, Skywalker? What will you do? Go running to Kenobi?” Shylon put on an awful imitation of Obi-Wan’s Coruscanti accent, “ _ Sit, Anakin, and suck my cock like a good padawan, Force knows that you couldn’t pass any of the trials otherwise _ .” 

Anakin saw red. He lifted his leg and sent his foot hurtling into Shylon’s face, knocking him onto the floor, the sole of his boot contacting with his nose, a loud crack resounding through the room, emanating from both his jaw and his nose. 

“How  _ dare  _ you?!” Anakin screamed, chest heaving as he drew in heavy breaths, the air stolen from his lungs by the strength of his rage, “Master Kenobi is a brilliant Master! He is kind, patient and intelligent! How  _ dare  _ you suggest that I only pass my tests because I give him sexual favours! I pass my test because he is a good Master, a good teacher! It has nothing to do with anything that you are suggesting!” He drew in a sharp breath, hands shaking at his sides, “The fact that you even  _ think  _ that Master Kenobi would resort to such a thing to ensure that his padawan passes is an insult to his abilities as both a teacher and a Jedi. You should respect him, not insult him. If you do, you’d be best to do it when his padawan can’t hear you.” 

A hand landed on his shoulder, Obi-Wan's familiar signature washing over him in calming waves as the Master projected serenity at him through their shared bond. The anger dissipated as quickly as it had arrived and Anakin sagged in his Master’s grip, head hung low in shame, waiting for the inevitable lecture. 

Obi-Wan turned to Shylon, who was sprawled across the floor, clutching his nose and in a state of disbelief, and arched a disapproving eyebrow at him, “I only heard a little bit of your conversation with Anakin and quite frankly, young Sevanar, I’m appalled by what I heard.” 

Anakin felt a pang of arousal for his master, the dark look in his eyes and hard set to his jaw making a flash of heat curl in his abdomen. The intensity in his eyes made him wonder what he would look like amidst the throes of passion, whether his eyes would shine like a thousand stars or if they would be darker than a night on Tatooine. He wondered how he would sound, whether he would throw his head back and be heard, or if he would whisper filthy words into his ear. He shook his head, trying to pull back his feelings, shoving them into their cage, and reminded himself that there was no place for those thoughts outside of his quarters. 

He tuned back into Obi-Wan’s lecture and fought back a grin as his sharp tongue and quick-witted mind worked to tear Shylon down a peg or two. 

“You should be praising your classmate, not tearing him down! Anakin tries his level best to get the grades that he does and he very much deserves them! To say that he only gets his grades through my own sexual gratification is an insult to his intelligence and talent!” He ranted, arms crossed over his chest and eyes shining with disappointment, “You can make certain that I will be reporting back to the council with this and you  _ will  _ be punished for your actions. You would do well to stop bringing other padawans down and focus more on your studies to bring up your own, quite frankly dreadful, grades.” Obi-Wan drew in a deep breath, “Get to the Healers and get yourself cleaned up.”

With that, he turned on his heel and gripped Anakin’s upper arm in a soft grip, pulling him down the Hall to his quarters. 

“The  _ nerve  _ of that Padawan. I’ve two minds to go back there and give him another piece of my mind!” Obi-Wan ranted, marching back and forth in front of his caf table, “I need to meditate.” 

Anakin laughed at his abruptness but felt a surge of affection for his master’s protectiveness, trying desperately to keep it under control so that Obi-Wan would not feel it through their bond. 

“I think you should, Master.” Anakin replied and smiled softly at Obi-Wan before he fell into his meditative pose, “Thank you for defending me, Master.” 

“Nonsense, Anakin.” Obi-Wan answered, keeping his eyes shut as he spoke, “I am your master, I’m supposed to defend you when other padawans make absurd accusations such as those. Now, be quiet or leave, I need to meditate.” 

The padawan snorted, but dropped himself onto Obi-Wan’s sofa, busying himself with deconstructing and reconstructing Obi-Wan lamp. 

  
  


**5: Padmé: 21 Years Old**

“I barely see you anymore, Anakin!” Padmé yelled, pacing across the stretch of carpet in front of her bedroom door. 

Anakin rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, “Well, that’s not exactly my fault! We both lead busy lives!” 

“Oh, that’s rich!” She shot back, “You’re too busy for me, but perfectly available for Obi-Wan!” 

Anakin felt a stab of fear in his chest, wondering if she knew of his true feelings for his master, but pushed the thought away when he realised that he kept his emotions so tightly under wraps that even he forgot how he felt sometimes. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Pad!” He replied, tugging his hand through his hair in frustration, “I live with Obi-Wan, it’s not like I make a conscious decision to be with him instead of you!” 

“But, you do, though!” She shouted, throwing her hands up in the air in exasperation, “It might not be conscious, but you do it! You’re always with him for dinner, when you could come to me. You’re with him in the evening, when you could come to lay with me! Why?” 

Anakin rolled his eyes and stepped away from her, trying to rein in his emotions before he said something that he would regret. He drew in a deep breath and shook his head, “Don’t ask me that, Padmé.”

“No!” She cried, turning on her heel to continue her pacing, “No! Why? Why do you go to him but not to me? What makes him so special?!” 

Anakin let the flare of anger wash over him, his stomach churning as he tugged his hand through his hair, and rounded on Padmé with a wild look in his eyes, “BECAUSE I’M IN LOVE WITH HIM!” 

Anakin fell silent, hand flying up to his mouth as his jaw dropped open in shock, muffling the shocked noise that fell from his lips. He stared at her with wide eyes and shook his head. A stab of fear shot through his chest, seizing his heart in an ice-cold vice as his words replayed in his head on a loop. 

He’d just admitted his attachment aloud. He could be expelled from the Order. Obi-Wan could be expelled from the Order. It would be the end of his relationship with Obi-Wan- platonic or otherwise. 

“Padmé.” He whispered, his entire body shaking with the strength of his fear, “I-”

She stared at him, eyes shining with clarity, and a small grin spread across her lips which soon dropped when she glanced behind Anakin, gaze fixing on something behind his shoulder. 

Anakin froze, his terror worsening when he realised that they’d been walked in on at one of the worst possible times. He’d take blurting his feelings out to Padmé over someone walking in on him any day. 

“Padmé…” He whispered, hands falling to his sides, “Who…?” 

She shook her head softly, "I should go." 

Anakin breathed out heavily and squeezed his eyes shut, clenching his hands into fists as he slowly turned on his heel to face the intruder. Anakin groaned loudly at the person that greeted him, burying his head in hands to hide his mortification, shoulders shaking with silent laughter. 

“Karking sithspit!” Anakin gasped and pulled his hands away from his face to stare up at Obi-Wan, “Of  _ course. _ ” He shook his head and stepped away from his master, tugging a hand through his hair, “Of  _ all  _ the people in the Temple that had to walk in on that conversation, it had to be  _ you _ .” 

“I wouldn’t necessarily say that was a bad thing.” Obi-Wan replied, arching an eyebrow at Anakin and the padawan could feel his amusement through their bond. 

Anakin snapped his head towards the Master and narrowed his eyes, heart jolting with both hope and fear, “What?” 

“You heard me.” He whispered, taking a step towards Anakin, “Anakin, I’ve tried so hard to ignore my feelings for you, to tell myself that I could release them to the Force and move on with my life. But, I couldn’t. I couldn’t ignore my attachment to you. I couldn’t ignore the way that I felt for you. I couldn’t keep telling myself that you didn’t mean more to me than just a padawan and a best friend. I couldn’t keep telling myself that I didn’t want you in every way that I shouldn’t. I want to hold your hand and cuddle you and kiss you. I want to make love to you. I want to call you mine. Anakin, I’m yours, if you’ll have me.”

Anakin surged forward, slamming his mouth against Obi-Wan’s, and grinned when he pulled a pleasured groan from his master’s lips, “Obi-Wan?” He whispered against his lips. 

“Yes, dear one?” He breathed. 

“Make love to me?” 

Obi-Wan grinned and shoved him back towards the bedroom. 

  
  


**+1: To Save Anakin**

Obi-Wan burst into the room, with high-vaulted ceilings and floor-length windows, and cast a look around at the audience that had gathered there, people from all races and civilisations filling the room. 

There was a roped-off square in the centre of the room, cushioned by a deep blue mat, and Obi-Wan cast a wary glance at it before approaching the throne to the left of the room. 

“To get your beloved back,” Lothrak, the leader of the Nulmi, snarled, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “you must fight for him.”

He and Anakin had been sent to Nulm, a water-based planet in the Mid Rim, to negotiate treaties regarding fuel trade and it had been going well until Anakin had been kidnapped by Lothrak’s henchmen and taken to the Palace as a consolation prize for some wrong-doing against them by previous Jedis. 

Obi-Wan had fought ceaselessly to get Anakin back, had begged and pleaded and made promises that he had no intention of keeping. But, in the end, it had come down to a negotiation: Anakin would be released if Obi-Wan could hold his own against the best fighter in Nulm. 

Obi-Wan cast a glance at his lover, smiling softly in reassurance, and sagged in relief when he felt Anakin’s belief in him and his love surge through their bond, warming him and promising him security. 

Anakin was on his knees beside the throne, hands cuffed behind his back and thick metal collar around his throat with a chain linking the collar to Lothrak’s wrist. 

_ You’ll be okay.  _ He whispered, stroking softly at Anakin’s mind, sharing his adoration for his padawan,  _ I’ll get you back.  _

Anakin smiled back and nodded, keeping his mind open for Obi-Wan, his signature a constant, reassuring presence in his mind,  _ I know. I trust you.  _

_ When I get you out of this, I plan to spend the  _ **_entire_ ** _ journey back to Coruscant in our quarters, wrapped up in your body. _ He growled, a flare of possessiveness and arousal pulsing through the bond. 

Anakin smirked, a dark look flashing in his eyes,  _ I would expect nothing else. Now hop to it and get me out of here, so you can follow through with your plans.  _

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes,  _ As you wish, dearheart.  _

He turned away from Anakin and addressed the leader, “I accept your challenge. I will do what I must to return my love to his rightful place by my side.”

Lothrak nodded and smirked maliciously, “Then you may enter the ring and begin the fight.” 

Obi-Wan nodded and turned on his heel, discarding his robes as he stepped into the ring, unclipping his lightsaber from his belt. The Nulmi’s best fight, Jongar, stepped into the ring and Obi-Wan sized him up. 

Jongar was at least two heads shorter than Obi-Wan and half as muscular. He carried himself with an air of arrogance, which undoubtedly came with the title of best fighter, and Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. This was going to be easier than anticipated. 

Jongar stood at one end of the ring and ducked down into his fighting pose with an unnecessary flourish. Obi-Wan rolled his eyes again and pulled himself into his own stance, arm outstretched before him, two fingers pointing at Jongar, and flicked his lightsaber on, lifting it above his head. 

The room was bathed in pale blue light, the source of which was Obi-Wan’s lightsaber, and Jongar paled at the sight of it, eyes blowing wide with fear. Obi-Wan grinned maliciously and started his attack, swinging his lightsaber down against Jongar’s steel swords in a graceful arc. There was a flash of sparks and a soft clanging sound as the plasma made contact with the steel. Jongar stared at Obi-Wan with fearful eyes, features illuminated by the soft glow of his ‘saber, and, to his merit, launched a counterattack. Obi-Wan easily defended himself against it, not even breaking a sweat, and Jongar left himself open long enough for Obi-Wan to plant a well-aimed kick to the Nulmi’s chest. He sent him plummeting to the floor and Obi-Wan pressed his foot against his neck, not enough to close his windpipe, but enough to restrain him. He brought his lightsaber down, leaving the tip of it hovering a few millimetres from Jongar’s nose. 

Lothrak made a surprised noise and cut the fight off with a loud yell, “You have made your point, Master Jedi!” 

Obi-Wan turned to face him, hair dishevelled and falling into his vibrant blue eyes, “May I have my Anakin back now?” 

Lothrak paled at the dangerous look in Obi-Wan’s eyes and released the collar and cuffs with a hasty flick of his wrist, “You may. You may also tell the Jedi that they will receive fuel from us at a cheaper rate. Thank you, Master Jedi, and we are sorry for the inconvenience done to you by the taking of your dearest Anakin.” 

Obi-Wan nodded his head and bowed in respect to the leader, “Thank you, your highness. We must take our leave now.” 

Obi-Wan ducked out from the ring and approached Anakin, wrapping him up in a tight hug before pulling him into the hallway. His hands ghosted over Anakin’s flesh, mind reaching out to his, and searched relentlessly for any injuries. 

“Are you okay? You’re not injured at all?” Obi-Wan whispered, eyebrows furrowed in concern. 

Anakin shook his head and rolled his shoulders in soft circles, “No, I’m fine. I’m just a little uncomfortable from being in the same position for a while.” 

“We can fix that when we get back to our ship.” He replied, tugging Anakin towards the hangar. 

The younger man rolled his eyes and tugged Obi-Wan to a stop, “Obi-Wan?” He breathed, eyes alight with a silent question. 

“Yes, dear one?” He answered, gaze soft as he stared up at Anakin, nothing but love and care drifting through his side of the bond. 

“I’m glad that you came back for me.” He whispered, his relief and adoration for Obi-Wan pulsating off of him. 

Obi-Wan cupped Anakin’s face and rubbed a thumb across his cheekbone, smiling when the young Jedi leant into the touch, “As if I could ever leave you behind.” He grinned and pressed a chaste kiss to Anakin’s lips. 

“Can we get back to the ship now?” Anakin gave him an answering grin as he pulled away, a heated look in his eyes, “You’ve got a promise to keep.” 

The Jedi Master snorted, “I love you, Anakin Skywalker.” He chuckled, pressing a second kiss to Anakin’s lips. 

“And I you, Obi-Wan Kenobi.” Anakin replied before he tugged him back towards the hangar and onto the ship, fully intent on making sure that Obi-Wan stuck to his promise. 


End file.
